


Let's Share the Blame

by Legionnaire24601



Series: I will not instigate revolution [1]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, First Meetings, Gen, Parent/Teacher Conferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-02-13 22:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legionnaire24601/pseuds/Legionnaire24601
Summary: “Lawrence and Janeth are holding a betting pool with the rest of the faculty over whether the parents are more ‘Difficult’ than last year… are you interested?’”Strickler shook his head, “No,Tonight will be fine, the parents will be fine.”There was nothing inherently wrong with Parent/Teacher Conferences, they were tedious, yes, but nothing he couldn't handle.





	1. First meetings

Walter is in the middle of opening an email from Otto that had just arrived when his landline rings. Stuck between trying to type up an effective response in german with one hand and reaching over his stacked Civil War lecture printouts that were currently blocking said phone,with the other, Walter has less attention available to pay to the figure that slid through his office door. Subsequently, Senor Uhl’s words get lost in the gruff Trollish that emits from the receiver, and the tense panic that grips him when he realizes they have his number… his school's number. They shouldn’t be calling him. Walter bites back a curse as his contact said her piece and hung up.  
“I’m sorry Uhl what did you say?” He asked, hanging up and smiling as he shifted back into a comfortable position at his seat.  
“I asked if you are ready?”  
“Ready?”  
Grabbing a pen Strickler scribbled on a post-it a reminder to have words with Yumi about breaking Changeling protocol.

“Did you forget about the Parent/Teacher conference?”  
The scratching of his pen stopped.  
Uhl took must have taken his silence for confirmation for he cocked his head to the side and pulled a pamphlet from his shirt pocket as he did so.  
“It’s the first one of the year.” Uhl smiled.  
He walked towards Strickler’s desk and placed the paper on it, before striding back to admire the masks lining the wall.  
“Ah,” Walter smiled,“That would explain the sudden influx of Lincoln's that I’ve found hidden in essay papers collected this week.”  
Opening up the brochure He glanced at the schedule inside.  
“Again?”  
“Every year.”  
“Lawrence and Janeth are holding a betting pool with the rest of the faculty over whether the parents are more ‘Difficult’ than last year… are you interested?’”  
Strickler shook his head, “No,Tonight will be fine, the parents will be fine.”  
His coworker sent him a disbelieving smile and made to leave.  
“Oh by the way,” Uhl paused at the doorway, “we voted that you’d be the one to handle the introductions.”  
“Wait what?” Walter snapped his gaze up and twisted the brochure violently in his hands.  
But Uhl had already left.  
A thirty minute introduction with all the parents, tedious, yes, but nothing he couldn't handle. 

 

***

 

They’re arguing again.  
He has the beginnings of a headache and in truth he should have known better.  
“Will they be learning about World War 2?” One of them asked.  
“What about the SAT’s?” Another yelled from the back. And before he could answer, the room erupted with questions from distressed parents.  
“How can they qualify for the national merit scholarship?”

“When will the test be administered?”

“We want our boy to attend Stanford. Can you guarantee a score to get him in?” 

“That is not something I can . . .”

“How can we guarantee it?”

Walter could feel a vein beginning to pulse aggressively behind his left eye.  
“You can always bribe someone on the College Board.” He stated dryly.  
To his horror some of the parents brightened considerably at his words and began murmuring amongst themselves.  
Walter quickly held up his hands. “No!”  
They turned to glare at him again and Walter forced a polite smile to remain on his face.  
“I . . . it was a joke. . . dont,” he shook his head, “Don’t do that.” These people were unbelievable, Roman senators hadn’t been this difficult calm down, and some had actively tried to assassinate him.  
“Please do not concern yourselves. The PSAT will be administered in the student's second year.” Walter continued.  
“The official test will be in October of their Junior or Senior year. Your children will have plenty of time to prepare.”

For the briefest of moments it seemed that the parents were finally placated, and Strickler let out a breath he did not know he was holding.  
“Should I hire a tutor?”  
“That is a valid option.”  
Another Parent huffed irritated, “But what about. . .?”  
Oh for the love of Meraxes’ sagging gronk noks.  
Walter bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing out loud and inhaled deeply to prepare himself to answer another asinine question.  
Yet to his relief, his classroom door opened with a force that vibrated room, effectively silencing everyone.  
Coach Lawrence swaggered in, clipboard in hand. “All right everybody, you went over time by almost an hour, so that means your individual conferences with the other teachers has been shortened to thirty minutes.”  
Walter could see that Janeth and Uhl were behind the doorframe sniggering into their hands. Damn them,They’d planned for this. He sent them a glare, and they quickly looked away attempting to appear innocent.

***

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur. Without the assurance of superior numbers, the parental hive mind had collectively been extinguished.  
Walter had been more than happy to pick off their numbers one by one.

“Your son has potential, but he needs to put in more effort in his school work.”  
Id est the boy needs to actually turn in his work. For most it should have been obvious but if the look on Steve Palchuk Sr. was anything to go by, the idea was a novel one.  
“Right, thanks for the suggestion Mr. Strickler.”  
With a nod, more to himself than anything, Palchuk had stood up from the piano stool and left.

That was thirty minutes ago and so far his last appointment seemed to be a no show. Relieved that the night was seemingly over, Walter pressed his palms firmly into his eyes and exhaled, enjoying the silence.  
“Hello?”  
He snaps his head up so fast that for a moment vertigo hits him and he has to pause to regain his bearings.  
“Hmm?”  
“Sorry,” A tall red headed woman apologized from the office doorway. “Are you,” she fumbled with a pamphlet, “ Mr. Strickler?”  
Guileless blue eyes looked at him questioningly.  
Strickler blinked, stood up from his seat and smiled.  
“Yes, please come in.”  
“I’m sorry, I had a terrible pothole incident and... well you don’t care…” She murmured apologetically.  
“ I'm sorry I'm late.” She repeats mildly as she comes forward to shake his hand.  
“I’m Barbara Lake.”  
“Walter Strickler, Please sit down.”  
She does so and He begins the meeting.

***

As expected she isn’t content with her son’s current grades in his class. He understands, for some the transition to High school is difficult, especially when transferring in late from another school. While Jim is a bright boy, he is not his best student, and considering the scores of some of the other students in his class, he will not outcompete their standing. Still he likes the boy, who reminds him a bit of himself when he was younger, and he finds his mother to be… intriguing.  
So he writes down a few websites that he knows to be helpful and accurate. Elaborates some more on his syllabus when she points out an apparent contradiction. Her eyes narrow slightly when he suggests that instructions are not up for interpretation and should be followed “to a T” but she nods nonetheless. He finds that conversing with her is surprisingly easily as the topics shift from one thing to another.

“And that Mr. Strickler, is the curious case of Mr. J. R. Hensler,” She finishes the tale about her former history teacher with a slight chuckle.  
He laughs.  
“There’s nothing of so infinite vexation as man’s own thoughts.”  
“Ben Jonson?”  
“John Webster”  
“My next guess.” She states brightly just as her cell rings.  
“Hello? Oh Hi Jim” She stands and moves to observe the Masks lining his wall.  
“No I’m still at the school.” She looks surprised, “Really? I lost track of time.”  
At this Walter looks at his clock and realizes that they had been talking for two hours. She hangs up, turns and gives an rueful shrug.  
“I have to go, it’s been nice talking to you.” Barbara states quietly as she moves to place the piano stool back in its original place.  
He stands, “of course, it was a pleasure.”  
She waves as she heads out.

He takes that as his cue to leave as well, and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair.  
He opens the desk drawer to grab his fedora and notices the files underneath it.  
Principal Levit was always telling him to give extra credit if the students asked for it but they rarely did.  
The thought about leaving it, occurs to him briefly, but he likes Jim and he’s sure he can do better, he just needs the opportunity. He grabs the files.

As he walks out, he see’s Mrs. Lake walking down the hallway looking for the exit. Some antiquated thought in the back of his mind urges him to ask, “Mrs. Lake, may I walk you out?”  
When she jumps at his voice, he realizes that he was louder than he intended. Strickler pointedly ignores the heat rising up his neck, as he awaits her response.  
Barbara looks at him then, really looks at him, with a level of scrutiny that he has no doubt aids in her in her profession. He resists the urge to look over his shoulder to check if there is something of interest in the hall behind him.  
After a moment, she nods and smiles, a small, happy smile, and his genuine content at the sight surprises him.  
He steps forward, holding out the files towards her as they leave the school and enter the parking lot.  
“Here, these are papers that Jim can do for extra credit.” Strickler says as he adjusts his jacket.

“I must admit though it will be hard, and time consuming, students have been known to grow resentful of the workload, they’ve formed unions, demanded better wages, it takes forever placate them, “ Walter flashed her a smile, “but, If Jim completes it, he should be able to catch up with the others.”

“Hmmm I don’t know Mr. Strickler, I’m not sure I can handle the accusations from a union strike all by myself.” She said teasingly turning to look at him. In night her eyes had turned as dark a blue as the sea after a storm.  
“Let's share the blame then.” he breathed.  
Her smile is so slow in coming that for some time he thinks it will not appear. Barbara, takes the files from him and shuffles the papers in her hands, flicking through the titles.  
“Thank you, Mr. Strickler that’s really thoughtful.”  
“Call me Walter, please.”  
“Barbara,” She offers in return.  
They stop at her car and there is a moment in which she appears to hesitate and Walter focuses on rotating the fedora in his hands, the slightly frayed edges remind him that he might have to get a new one soon, but then she is opening the door and turning the ignition and rolling the window down before looking back up at him.  
“Well,” Barbara says, tapping each finger against the steering wheel. “Goodnight then.”  
“Have a pleasant evening.” He replies, tipping his hat at her before placing it on his head and turning away.


	2. Cakewalks

"This is excellent did you make it yourself?"

"No my son did."

"Oh." And there's that smile again, the same cringeworthy one she's been seeing over the last hour from people she doesn't know.

Barbara regrets each and every single choice that led her here. Agreeing to help Jim set up for the Arcadia High School Cakewalk, had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was her day off, and she had barely seen Jim all week, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to spend time with him. Except, the students were supposed move from classroom to classroom throughout the entire event, so that, was no longer an option.

 _But ..._ Barbara thought eyeing the gorgeous man standing at the station across from her, _… the view is nice._

Or, at least, he's gorgeous from the back, judging from the way his shoulders fill out his jacket.

And apparently, some of the other parents think so too , what with the way they are currently mobbing him.

He must have said something funny, because they all laugh in unison in such a disturbing manner, that he takes a surprised step back. One particularly bold one follows and trails a hand down his sleeve. Those broad shoulders stiffen. "Why Mr. Strickler… " and whatever she says is lost because the name strikes a chord in the forefront of Barbara's memory.

Strickler… Walter… Walt.

Dark eyes that somehow remained Forest Green even in the darkness of an unlit parking lot.

Barbara shuts her eyes.

When she reopens them, Walter Strickler is still standing there, but he's looking at her.

_Oh hell…_

Those green eyes brighten when they meet her gaze, and when he smiles and waves, Barbara finds herself returning the gesture more vigorously than she intended.

He smirks.

"Do you think… when he smiles, inside he just thinks to himself 'God, I'm a handsome sod?'" a voice comes in from her left.

Barbara startles so thoroughly she nearly topples over Jim's plate of croquembouche. She turns and is met with the mischievous smile and bright black eyes of some unknown man.

"Who?" She asks, purposely looking in the opposite direction of where Strickler is currently standing.

"I do believe you know of whom, I speak." He laughs and pops a croquembouche into his mouth before leaning against the table and flicking at a bit of invisible lint on his sleeve. "But, for the sake of clarity, l do so name my old friend Walter Strickler, as the subject of our conversation."

Barbara turns to look at him, "How long have you known him?"

"Oh a long time," He smirks, "Sometimes it feels like centuries."

He grabs another pastry and a napkin before motioning with his head towards where Walt is currently trying to walk towards her.

"I suggest if you wish to speak to him, that you do so quickly, because they are not going to let him out of their sight without a fight." At this he waves his hand towards the swarm of parents that have once again blocked the history teachers path.

"Go on, I'll watch your station."

Barbara gives the strange man a hard stare as he eats another dessert.

"You eating all of it is more likely."

He laughs and flashes her a charming grin that she has no doubt has worked on several women.

She glances at him, looks back at Walt, then back to him.

"Don't eat all of it." She orders before stepping out from behind the table.

His grin widens, "Good luck _bean rua_!" before he takes her place and stuffs a cookie in his mouth.

"Barbara," Walt says when she greets him. And there is an emphasis in the way he says the r in her name that she is sure he is purposely making sexier than necessary.

"Walter."

When she stops in front of him she moves her hand in a small wave.

She can feel the glares from the other parents when they realize they're on a first name basis. Most leave under the pretense of searching for their children.

Barbara smiles.

"You gestured?"

"I just wanted to say Thank you for what you did the other night, for helping Jim, I really appreciate it."

"Oh it was no trouble at all."

Fortune favors the bold, Barbara.

"Well There must be some way I can repay you. Coffee, Dinner, An electrocardiogram?" At this she steps closer and adjusts the lapel of his jacket. "Because I'm pretty certain that when I'm around you exhibit signs of premature ventricular contractions."

He tilts his head to observe her hand. Those eyes glimmer emerald and he looks pleased.

"You're flirting with me."

"Something like that."

He chuckles, flushes, chuckles again. And it's adorable how at loss for words he is. To her relief He gently takes her hand in his and gives her fingers a soft squeeze.

"That… hmmm." His smile grows shy. " Coffee would be a delight, and we'll forgo the ECG because I don't mind the sensation of my heart skipping."

Laughing, Barbara ducks her head to hide, unsuccessfully, the blush she can feel crawling up her neck.

"It seems that we're disrupting the cakewalk," Walt murmurs looking past her briefly.

She turns and most of the parents are staring and talking amongst themselves.

She chuckles and turns back to wink at him.

"Let's share the blame then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Surprise y’all.
> 
> Ashur makes a cameo!  
> Also bean rua is Gaelic for red headed woman.


	3. Darling, Let's be Silly! The Musical also known as Dear God... those lyrics

They’ve been at this for over 2 hours now.  

There is little to no sign of improvement from the students that were strutting about the stage. They looked uncoordinated, unkempt and unimpressed. Though he really couldn’t judge, Walter doubted he looked any better.  His hair keeps falling into his eyes. The auditorium is cold and Barbara had somehow commandeered his Jacket. Though as he looks at her through his peripheral, his fingers briefly stuttering on the wrong keys, the sight of her wearing it wasn’t… displeasing. 

 

He’d forgotten that Janeth strong armed him into helping with this years play. Forgotten that instead of choosing a script that was already written, The drama club, for the sake of suffering for their art, as well as getting as many people as possible to suffer along with them, chose to create their own play. Which was fine, what did he care for adolescent human endeavours? Except their antics, from half formed scores, to rewritten scripts had now gotten in the way of  **his** plans and that simply wouldn’t do.

 

He should be on a date.

Instead he’s taking out his frustration on the ivory’s.

“A little softer Mr.Strickler, your drowning them out.”

 

Instinctually, his fingers lightened in their journey.  He worried at his lower lip and watched the students try the choppy choreography. Most went tumbling over the props that lay haphazardly across the floor. The stage designers had left in protest a half hour ago. 

 

_ Oh baby baby  _

_ You make my heart go jiggy wiggy! _

_ Ohhhh darling let’s be silly! _

 

Annnd there...

Sophomore Jeffrey’s voice cracked in his effort to try to hit the right note. Just like it had for last twenty times that they had gone over this song.

Walter winced. By all the Blades of Ishtar who thought that writing an original musical this year was a good idea?

He glanced over to Barbara who was seated contentedly next to him, watching the disaster unravel in front of them. The gentle upturn of her lips being the only thing underscoring her amusement at the situation. 

 

“No, no, no!” Janeth waved her hands at the cast. Her dark curls bouncing as she fiddled with her glasses and paced along the edge of the stage.

Taking advantage of the lull, Walter swerved to look at Barbara.

“Barbara, I am so sorry-” He started.

She laughs, “Walt I heard you the last twelve times, I understand and I don’t mind”

She smiles at him then, a soft genuine smile, before she reached her hand up to thread her fingers through his hair. “ First dates never really go as planned.”

“Besides,” She grins as she pulls away.

“ as this musical so sagely tells us  _ When things get rough, baby we’ll show our stuff,  our hearts say hi ho baby, let’s be silly. “  _ Barbara sang lightly.

Walter  looked at her, shook his head and laughed.

“Dear god those lyrics.”

“Is something amusing about the lyrics Mr. Strickler?” Janeth turned to pin him with a stare from across the stage.

Trying to wipe the smile from his face, Walter removed his hands from the piano and dragged his palm across his face, before turning to look at Ms. Janeth once again. 

“I don’t mean to criticize... but so far within the song, Jeffrey’s heart has either, been going ‘hoo haa,’  ‘hi ho’ or ‘jiggy wiggy,’”

Janeth sniffed in contempt as behind her some of the students began to snicker.

 

“Look I don’t need another critic.”

“… a cardiologist maybe,” Barbara huffed under her breath, and Walter bit his lower lip to stifle a snort.

 

“Let’s Try it again! from the top!” Janeth motioned to the students.

This time to Strickler’s surprise the club managed to get to the bridge before Janeth was voicing her displeasure at her leads performance. 

“No Jeffrey, no! hit the ‘C’! The middle one! Middle C!” She jumped from the stage with surprising ease and strode over. Dramatically draping half of her body over the black ash piano to lean in closer than necessary to whisper, “ Walter help him.”

 

“How…”

Walter looked between the tired looking cast and Janeth, before glancing at Barbara in the hopes that she might offer some insight. Instead those brilliant blue eyes were sparkling at him with barely contained laughter.

He sighed and brushed his hair back out of his face, before leaning in towards the drama teacher. 

“Look, Either I can play really loud or someone on stage is going to have to jab Jeffrey with a pin because between you and me, Ms. Janeth, He is not hitting this note without a pole vault.” He hissed.

“Well I never!” she glared incensed 

“Well now you have!” he retorted.

Practically growling Janeth slid off the Sauter piano to snap at the students, “Again from the bridge!”

Groaning, Walter hung his head tiredly, while Barbara chuckled and absentmindedly rubbed his back in comfort.

The hot press of her palm through the fabric of his turtleneck, a delightful contrast to the cool air of the auditorium, drifted down his spine just far enough to make him lose focus entirely and the wrong set of chords that he reflexively pressed in his distracted state clashed horribly with the vocals of the students.

“WALTER!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Ms. Janeth!” Barbara called out laughing, not sounding sorry at all. She waved her free hand in surrender, “My fault, I uh… bumped him accidentally,” Barbara turned and flashed him a smile that was too lovely not to return in earnest. “We’ll share the blame.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darling, Let's be Silly is not a real musical, for the sake of people every where it should never be a real musical mostly because I cannot write songs XD that being said any resemblance to any musical media is purely coincidental.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by a couple of scenes from the show 'Frasier'


	4. Earnshaw and the Piccadilly circus

Barbara has her entire summer work schedule planned out. Her notes and files are neatly held in folders and paperwork with Deadlines are color coordinated and met accordingly. Scheduled meetings with Dr. DeLane and Dr. Harris are on her calendar in legible handwriting and she doesn't miss a single one. It’s perfect really, for once things are going as expected. Her days are more consistent. There aren’t any emergencies that can’t be handled swiftly. She gets to spend more time with Jim, she manages to have quiet coffee dates with Walt and best of all she gets to sleep. For three weeks it’s perfect. For three weeks her days are glorious. And then Dr. DeLane’s wife gets transferred to San Bernardino- and just like that- Barbara watches her carefully constructed summer crumble around her.

 

This particular week has been hell. 

“Can you take on…?” Hannah from the front desk asks 

“Sure.” Barbara answers, knowing full well she doesn't need to take on another patient and tries not to yawn, choosing instead to focus on stirring the cream in her coffee mug. Walt had sent another “anonymous” care package to her earlier this week. Filled to the brim with tea and coffee from places she’s never heard of. To better deal with her increasing reliance on caffeine, the note attached had said. She smiles as she takes a tentative sip.

“Ok girl spill.”

“Hmm?” Barbara looks up tiredly from the rim of her cup.

Hannah flashed her a knowing look. Tapping one of her files on her desk with her index finger. She leaned back into her chair and grinned.

 

“You have been getting those packages for over two weeks now, I’ve caught you smiling at your phone constantly AND what’s worse is that… you’ve been giggling…” Hannah nodded sagely, “giggling... Barbara… a lot.” 

At that Hannah rose from her seat and pointed an accusing finger at her.

 

“So spill it girl, who are you seeing, and does he have a brother?”

Barbara laughed and put the mug back down on the counter.

 

“Hannah,” She said smiling, fully intending to deny her coworker any information when at that moment  Mrs. Earnshaw wheeled herself by the front desk.

“Are you referring to that devilish specimen of a man I happened to see you with the other evening, Dr. Lake. Right by your office if I remember correctly,” The elderly woman gave a rasping laugh.

 

“Ah ha!” Hannah grinned triumphantly

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Barbara turning as she restrained the urge to smile, “you should have been in bed, Mrs. Earnshaw.”

“If you wanted to keep it to yourself Dear this was not the place to meet him,” The woman shook her aging head, “there can be no secrets in a place where there are the sick and bored.”

 

“Handsome?” Hannah asked brown eyes twinkling as she leaned over her desk to look at Earnshaw, taking a sip of coffee from Barbara’s mug.

“He is most certainly not displeasing to the eyes, and the accent is delightful as well, I do not blame our sweet doctor for being driven to distraction.”

 

The old woman winked.“ If it weren't for my hip, I wouldn’t mind him giving me a tour around the piccadilly circus… if you catch my meaning.” 

 

“I wish I didn’t.” Barbara answered feeling the heat rising up her cheeks while Hannah sputtered and coughed as she accidently inhaled her drink.

 

“There you are! Catherine Earnshaw how many times have I told you not to wheel yourself out of sight?” Dan frowned placing his hands on his hips.

 

“About as many times as I’ve done so?”

“Have you no sense of respect for rules Mrs. Earnshaw?”

 

“Of course not, I used to be a burlesque dancer you know.” Earnshaw cooed, patting Nurse Dan on the cheek. “I have a record young man… what is it that you young people call it these days? Thug life? ”

 

Hannah snorted.

Dan sighed, waved at Barbara and Hannah before wheeling Mrs. Earnshaw back to her room as she continued to regale him with stories of her youth.

  
“It was 1933,  I and my friend Helen where in Chicago. Helen was such a talent, though in those days only I knew her as Helen, everyone else knew her as Billie or Sandy. We wanted  make a name for ourselves. Of course when she performed at the World’s Fair she immediately became such a success that I could never hope to match but I never held it against her. Dear boy the things that she did with those fans, it was quite scandalous, oh how we laughed afterward even as the police dragged us away.”

Barbara chuckled as she watched the two disappear into the hall. Her phone pinged.

Taking it out she smiled at the message, and shook her head, making to type out a raincheck.

“Barbara.” Hannah says calling her attention.

“Hh?”

“Here I’ll get Harris to take your shift, you go see your gentleman caller.”

“But.”

“No, Go on, go.” Hannah laughed. “Have fun.”

* * *

 

  
  


“And that’s how We were found out by my coworker.” She murmurs to him as they sit on her couch, carding her fingers through the short soft hair at the base of his neck.

“Is that so?” He asked against her throat, amusement lacing his voice. His free hand gentle on her cheek.

“Yep, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Barbara replies half expecting him to give some witty remark. 

Instead, Walt sits up and gently raises her chin. For a moment he simply smiles at her  and brushes his thumb along her jaw the instant before he kisses her, so that for the first moment of their kiss all she’s thinking about is how his lips are as  hot and dry as his palm is. After that, though, when he spreads his other hand lower on her back and pulls her closer as her arms circle around his neck, her mind goes completely blank.

Her breath is light and quick when they part and Barbara closes her eyes as he leans his forehead against hers.

“I should get going.”

“Probably.”

 

“Goodnight,” He murmurs, and she can hear his smile in the deep rumble of his voice.

 

“Goodnight,” She whispers back, opening her eyes to be greeted with a soft green gaze, and she can't quite help resist kissing him again.

“Hmmm,” He hums against her lips as he pulls away a bit.

“You sure I can’t interest you in a tour of the Picadilly circus tonight?” He asked mischievously raising a brow.

The sound that wheezed out of her mouth could not be something from the natural world, and before Barbara knew it both she and Walter started laughing so hard they had to hold onto each other to stay on the couch..

Wiping her eyes Barbara leaned forward and pressed her lips against his quickly before smacking his chest lightly. He chuckled.

“That’s all you got out of that story isn’t it?”

Walt grinned. “Yes.”

“Unbelievable, I never should have told you.”

“Perhaps,” His grin widened as  he took took her hand in his and placed a kiss to her knuckles, “What’s done is done, No matter what comes of it, we’ll just have to share the blame darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catherine Earnshaw shares her name with the fictional character from my Favorite novel Wuthering Heights. Other than that all other similarities in any sense are purely coincidental.


	5. Melting Pot

“You alright?”

  
“Yeah… “

A pause.

“It’s just that… I haven’t… you know… for a while.” Barbara bites her lip nervously and looks to the side, her neck flushing a lovely shade of pink.

Walter cradles her cheek and leans in to give her a soft peck on her lips.

“I’m right here.” He says in reassurance.

“I don’t know,” She says but turns and places the pot onto the stove anyway.

 Blue eyes twinkling, Barbara twists the heat up to high and swiftly takes a few steps back, seemingly wanting to put as much distance between her and the stove; almost like she expected some disaster to occur immediately upon contact with the appliance. After a few minutes though, the water began to shimmer and bubble.   
“There,” Walter says pressing a kiss to her temple and wrapping his arms against her middle, drawing her back into his chest. He leaned his head against her shoulder, “that wasn’t—“

—Walter cut himself off as the pot burst into flames before his very eyes.

“AH!” He cries out as stumbles back effectively dragging Barbara safely away from the now melting, _melting? How is it melting?_ Pot.  

“Where’s your fire extinguisher?!”He asks, no screams, not releasing his hold on her. He could feel her shaking within his arms.

“Ahaha!”

_She is… she is laughing?_

 “How is this funny?!” Strickler asked leaning back to stare at her incredulous.

  
“You should have seen the look on your face!”

* * *

 

 

It took a lot of effort, a great amount of cursing, which did nothing but cause Barbara to giggle some more because, “Your accent is adorable.” His tweed sports jacket is a casualty in the war but in the end Walter Strickler managed to subdue the fire.

“It shouldn’t be possible.”

“I told you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Walter said nothing and but rather shook his head at her in disbelief before trying again to get some of the residual ash off of his sweater.

“Jim is going to have a fit when he sees the state of his kitchen.” Barbara laughs from her seat on the kitchen counter. The cabinet beneath her feet gave a hollow thud when she accidently kicked it with the back of her heel.

“The lad will have to make do.”

“Sorry about your jacket.” She said not sounding very sorry at all.

“Are you?” Walter asks arching a brow.

“Well … you do look better without it.” Barbara’s grin widens as she gives him an appreciative look over.

At her tone all thoughts of improving the state of his clothing went out the window and Walter made a move to embrace her only to be stopped by her hand rising in a quick gesture to halt.

“Nuh uh,” She smirks tapping her foot against his thigh, “You’re covered in ash.”

“Minx,” He growls as his hair falls across his eyes and he pushes it back with an annoyed huff, all the while watching Barbara’s smile get wider, and her eyes soften with affection.

“Come here,” She says lightly taping her finger against the corner of her mouth.

“You sure?” He teases motioning to his ash covered self.

Her grin widens, “Did I stutter?”

“Hmm maybe I misheard,” He gives her a smirk to match her own as he steps forward, “Ask me again.”

In response Barbara’s ankle hooks behind his thigh, and pulls him between her legs. He goes willingly, caught up in the sight of her, placing his arms on either side of her as she leans up towards him, her lips just hovering over his.   
“Come here.”

Barbara’s arms encircle his neck and he lets himself be drawn into her further, pliant, and perfectly inclined to acquiesce to her request. Her mouth parting beneath his with a familiarity he once would have never considered possible, and now eager for her touch, gently pushes Barbara backwards as far as the countertop will allow, his arms encircling her as he passes his hands up her back and down again, over and over again until she moans his name.

“MOM??????”

_No that’s not right…_ Walter briefly thinks before his eyes snap open in realization. He stopped, Barbara stopped. And for two incredibly uncomfortable seconds they stared at each other before they slowly turned and looked through the open kitchen to gaze at the shocked faces of one Jim Lake Jr. and Tobias Domsalski.

Silence descended within the Lake household.

 For a full minute no one moved. Young Atlas’s face fluctuated between losing all its color and turning a violent shade of maroon. Tobias was visibly fighting his urge to laugh and Barbara had not said anything and until she did, he was determined to maintain silent, for Walter Strickler was hard pressed to think of what to say in the presence of a boy who had just walked in on his mother being locked in a passionate embrace with his teacher.

“Get it Dr.L!”

But apparently Mr. Domsalski was more creative than him in that aspect.

* * *

 

The sky is a vibrant orange, streaked with shades of purple and red as the Californian sun begins to set. Walter watches the sunset from his seat on the first step on the Lake’s front porch, waiting for Barbara to come out from speaking to Jim.

He closes his eyes and turns his face into the breeze.

The door hinge gives a slight wheeze of protest when it opens, and he can feel Barbara sit down next to him.

“How is Young Atlas?

“Surprised, He says he’s fine… I know him better than that…I think we legitimately scarred my son for life.”

Walter can’t help but laugh, “I’ll help cover the therapy.”

He opens his eyes and glances down. Somehow, Barbara’s hand had slipped into his without his knowledge. Now he pulls it into his lap, balances their twined hands on his thigh and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. Her hand is warm and soft, cupped where it is within his own, familiar and comforting.

He looks up to catch her gaze, those wondrous blue irises glinting brilliantly in the fading light. She smiles and gently squeezes his fingers. Immediately, warmth surged through his chest and he smiles back while his free hand finds its way to the back of her neck. Her hair is a soft slip beneath his hand, heavy and warm as he pulls her closer to him, brushing his lips against hers, once, twice, before kissing her deeply. Barbara’s hand trails up his chest and settles comfortably on his shoulder. Her knees bump into his own when they both try to slide in closer. Reluctantly they pull apart slightly to catch a breath.

 “When his therapist inevitably asks,” He chuckles against her mouth, lightly thumbing her jaw and closing his eyes as she threads her fingers through his hair, “We’ll just share the blame.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this one in a while, here ya go.


	6. Oh... hell

It was the phone on her nightstand that rouses Barbara from her sleep and in the half gold light of the rising sun, she reached over to find the offending contraption. Grabbing it she brought the cell close to look at the caller.

 

“Walt. Hey wake up.”

Behind her, the soft rustling of sheets as he shifted, “Mm?”

“Your phone is going off again Walt. Number is listed as Janus travel.”

He groaned, pressed his head between her shoulder blades and sighed, “Leave it.”

“You hardly ever answer them anymore.”

Walter moved to wrap his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I have other things I’d rather focus on.”

“Answer the call, Walt.” Barbara giggled waving his phone in the air.

 

A kiss to her temple followed by a fond, “No.”

 

Barbara smirked and leaned back into him. “They’re just going to keep calling you.”

He smiled against her cheek, “Let them.”

 

“They’ll cancel your subscription.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be nice” Strickler murmured wistfully, reaching out to grab his phone from her.

 

“If they do we’ll have to share the blame.” Barbara twisted in his arms to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Mm, No my dear I think i’ll take the blame for that.” Walt said tossing the phone behind him. He leaned over and kissed her.

* * *

 

In truth, Barbara was expecting the day to be relatively normal. The morning was normal. Walt seemed normal. A bit more amorous than usual but she wasn’t going to complain, she definitely enjoyed his attentions. They both got ready for work, and when he kissed her goodbye that morning nothing was amiss. She expected the rest of the day to be that way. What she got instead, was having to hear from Nurse Dan that Walt had gotten himself hospitalized at her clinic due to fainting in the middle of a lecture, her son and his friend were currently with him in Room 42 and they were going on and on about talking rocks.

 

She enters Walt’s room, worried and hoping for nothing more than a simple case of dehydration and spots her son and Toby sitting in the corner looking over what appeared to be an old amulet. Its metal bore several scratches and it seemed to be emitting a soft blue light.

On the opposite end of the room Walter was lying on the bed seemingly out cold. Upon her entering, the boys looked up from their inspection of the amulet to gaze at her. Jim began to roll the amulet in his hands nervously

Barbara strode over to her fidgeting son, “What happened?”

Almost Immediately both boys started talking over each other in an attempt to explain the situation.

“Well Tobes and I went through the canals this morning.”

 

“We were late,” Toby added. 

 

“Saw a pile of rocks.”

 

“Rocks in the middle of the canal.”

 

“And one of them glowed, Mom.”

 

“Glowed Blue!”

 

“Tobes! I’m telling the story.”

 

“Well tell it better Jimbo, because you’re skipping important details!” Toby turned back to her and waved his arms in the air. “It said his name!” 

 

She frowned,“Who’s name?”

 

“Mr. Strickler’s, so we took it to class.”

“The amulet… glowed blue… and said Walt’s name.” Barbara echoed disbelievingly. 

 

Jim nodded, “ Showed him, and right there in the middle of a lecture on the Peloponnesian war, it said his name again.”

 

“Called him Stricklander, that time actually.” Toby clarified.

“He took one look at it, and passed out.”

 

“I think he may have hit his head on the floor.”

 

“Mary Wang was recording it.”

 

“‘For posterity’ she said.”

 

“This is a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up.”A low voice drawled out miserably from the hospital bed. Walter was awake and he was smacking his forehead with both palms in an effort to prove to himself that this was a dream.

“Walt don’t,” she said both relieved that he was awake and anxious to hear what he would say. She strode over to gently pry his hands away from his head. 

  
“Do you feel dizzy?”

 

“No.”

 

“Nausea?”

 

“No.”

“Any--”

 

“Barbara, I’m fine.” Walter said looking up at her, looking miserable but healthy.

 

“You fainted in class, like a woman from the 1800’s. Well-bred, but of weak constitution.” She said fondly, hoping to ease some of the tension they were both feeling.  She leaned over to kiss his red forehead as Walt’s face contorted between looking affronted and amused, while Toby snickered and Jim coughed into his arm in an attempt to hide his smile.

 

“Besides you might want to faint again when I tell you that following procedure, we contacted your emergency contact.”

“Why would I--” 

“You put down a Mr. Ashur Medina as your emergency contact.

Walter's eyes widened at her words,“ah fu-”

 

“--I can’t believe I’m your emergency contact.” A cheerful, familiar voice boomed through the hospital room.

As if summoned by the use of his name, Ashur Medina popped his head through the open doorway.   
“Oh no.” Walter groaned letting his head drop back onto the pillow and draping his arm over his eyes in such a manner that would put a diva to shame. “Not you. Go away.”

 

Ashur ignored him and stepped into room rummaging through the pockets of his overlarge denim jacket. “I am happy to report that I managed to forge all your medical files in time.”

He turned to look her dead in the eye and chirped merrily, waving a handful of papers at her.“Your Darling Doctor Girlfriend will never suspect a thing.”

 

“That is not how that works.” Barbara said, wondering, as she stared at him,if he was being serious or not. She took the papers regardless while Ashur winked at her before he went to sit directly on Walter’s legs.

 

“Get off!” Strickler’s attempts to throw off Ashur were fruitless.

 

“Walter, You’re so lucky to have me.” 

 

“Stop talking.” Walter growled.

 

“Doing illegal things for you out of the kindness of my heart.”

 

“Walter what is he talking about?”

 

“Nothing, he’s crazy.”

 

“But…”

 

“Shhhhh, pretty  _ Bean rua _ .” Ashur turned flashing her a grin, pressing his finger to his lips. “He needs to rest.”

 

“I hate you.” Walter dragged his arm down his face to glare at the man sitting on him.

 

“I love you too little brother.”

 

“Hey wait a minute you’re that guy that ate all the desserts I made!”Jim blurted out, his blue eyes narrowing as he took the other man in. Her son paused confused, “He’s your brother?”

 

Walter’s “NO!” was muffled by Ashur’s hand.

“Can’t you tell, young talented maker of delicious pastries?” Ashur smirked leaning over and lying fully on top of a struggling Walter, “We look so much alike!”

 

They did not, in fact, look alike, at all, and Barbara was trying not to laugh at her sons incredulous face and the absurdity of the situation. 

It was at that moment that the reason for Walter’s hospitalization chose to speak out once again.

 

“Walter Strickler.”

Barbara jumped back in surprise as  the thing in her sons hand, glowed with a pulse of light so bright it seemed like it was angry at being ignored. Toby pointed to it with a look that said, i told you so. Worried, she looked over to the two men on the hospital bed. Walter looked panicked and for the first time since she’d met Walt’s strange friend, Ashur’s smile flickered and then turned strained as he looked at the glowing metal disk and then to Walter.

  
“Really? You?” He asked. Walter nodded as best he could with Ashur’s hand still muffling his words.

Ashur began to laugh. A low laugh that just stopped short of hysteria.  He jumped off her patient and moved over to Jim. 

“Let me see it, lad.” He chuckled taking the amulet from Jim and rolling it lazily in his hands.

“Congratulations are in order old boy, you’ve been bestowed a great honor”

 

“I don’t feel honored.”

 

“Serves you right, bastard.” Ashur snorted and tossed the amulet at Walter who reluctantly caught it.

 

Turning to Barbara he smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes and reached over to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. “I wonder who your new boyfriend is going to be.” 

“Whaa?”

But he was already making his way out the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Walt called out and Barbara could make out the hint of fear in his voice.

 

"Oh you know, Wally. Gotta write reports. Notify Superiors--”

Barbara watched as Walt stiffened.

 

“--tell them, that what they are looking for is in Nepal or perhaps Malaysia.” Ashur finished with a thoughtful glance at Strickler.

Walter said nothing merely offered the other man a weak smile. 

 

“ You’re going to need all the help you can get. For now I’m off, but you’ll be seeing me again soon. As for the two of you,” Ashur pointed between her and Walt, “ you have much to discuss.” He smiled mischievously as he skipped out of the hospital room.

 

Barbara turned to at Walt. His green eyes were focused on the pulsing amulet in his hands. His expression unreadable, for the first time in a long while she couldn’t get a read on his feelings. 

“Walt?” 

“Yes, my dear?”

“Tell me the truth. What is that thing?”

Walt looked up from the glowing amulet in his hands to her. “Well… that’s a long and complicated story.”   
“Try me.”

He smiled at that, sighed, opened his mouth, closed it again and frowned.

“Well… Oh hell.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this one! I will be writing a sequel to this one eventually so stay tuned. Thank you all for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mr. J. R. Hensler, is purely fictional any likeness in name or occupation is purely coincidental.
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to a3rie for encouraging this piece.


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